


I'm a natural

by EtoileGarden



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Baby, Dream Magic, Finished, Homework, M/M, Shenanigans, demon doll, disastrous dreaming, i will write as many baby fics as i want ok????, not actually a demon doll, real life doll, ronan and adam are idiots, ronan is a massive drama queen, ronan is also a massive sop, the gangsey mucking about, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:11:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtoileGarden/pseuds/EtoileGarden
Summary: “Oh what the fuck, Gansey,” Ronan groaned once he’d stepped into the bathroom and taken a good look at the wailing thing that was in fact worse than a lot of Ronan’s nightmares.“I don’t know how to shut it up,” Gansey moaned, holding the horrifying plasticy contraption at arm's length, “I tried to call Blue to ask for help, but she just laughed, and then she got her mums on the phone to laugh at me as well, and then she just hung up.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been so sick for the last few weeks so here is a gift from my snot covered hours.

“Gansey, what the fuck,” Ronan says to announce his presence at Monmouth. 

 

Normally he wouldn’t need to announce his presence seeing as his arrival inside the flat was preceded by the BMW screaming into the parking lot, slamming doors, and his boots stomping up the stairs. Today though, the chaos happening within Monmouth over shadowed it. 

 

“Lynch,” Gansey called, quite doleful, from the direction of the bathroom. “Please help.” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Ronan yelled back, staying right the fuck in the doorway where it felt safest, “because it sounds like you have a motherfucking dying rooster in there with you.” 

 

There was a pause in which the aforementioned dying rooster let out a chaotic series of wails - possibly more like a car alarm - and then Gansey spoke again. 

 

“Please,” he said, the desperation in his voice in perfect harmony with the dying rooster car alarm. 

 

Ronan would do a lot of things for Gansey. Had done a lot of things for Gansey. He’d put his life on the line, his happiness on the line. He’d given up hours, and days, and months, and years of his life to chase after Gansey’s dreams with him (though he didn’t count them as wasted because Gansey’s dreams were his dreams, after all). They were brothers. Closer than. He still didn’t really want to have to go discover what was happening in the bathroom. 

 

However, Gansey had fought off some of Ronan’s most vicious and horrifying nightmares (not to mention the mutated ravens), so it couldn’t be as bad as that. 

 

-

 

“Oh what the  _ fuck _ , Gansey,” Ronan groaned once he’d stepped into the bathroom and taken a good look at the wailing thing that was in fact worse than a lot of Ronan’s nightmares. 

 

“I don’t know how to shut it up,” Gansey moaned, holding the horrifying plasticy contraption at arm's length, “I tried to call Blue to ask for help, but she just laughed, and then she got her mums on the phone to laugh at me as well, and then she just hung up.” 

 

“What  _ is _ it?” Ronan asked now, which seemed like the most important question amongst the mess. 

 

In response, Gansey shoved the doll like thing at him - all waily and fake bulging eyes - “Homework!” He said, voice raised to be heard over his apparent homework. 

 

Recoiling, Ronan snorted a little - partially at Gansey’s tone, partially at the idea of this plastic demon somehow being homework. 

 

“Explain.” 

 

Over the racket, Gansey manages to get across that this ‘real baby’ demon doll was homework because Aglionby had reshuffled classes around, still hadn’t found a Latin teacher, and somehow thought it was a good idea to just substitute with a half cocked health class in which the entire ‘latin class’ was paired up and given a ‘baby’ to care for for the whole week. If this had been Mountain View high, the ‘baby’ would probably have been a sack of flour, or an egg, but seeing as Aglionby was blessed with disgusting amounts of wealth, the ‘baby’ was an expensive robot model that apparently knew when it was being mistreated and would dob your every bad parenting move in for the teacher to dock your grade. 

 

Gansey explained all of this over the wailing, and then explained that he couldn’t stop the wailing because he didn’t know what was causing it, and he’d changed the nappy, and he’d used the fake bottle, and he’d burped it, and yet - 

 

“For fucks sake,” Ronan growled, held his arms out for the demon baby, “fine.” 

 

“Thank you,” Gansey sighed, hurrying to place the doll in Ronan’s arms, obviously his goal this whole time. “I feel like I’m going crazy. I tried calling you, you know,” he added grouchily, stretching his arms over his head. 

 

“That was your first mistake. So, if we try and take the batteries out, or like, turn it off with blunt force, it’s an automatic fail?” 

 

“Yes. And,” Gansey added quickly, “I’m partnered with Adam, so if you were thinking it’d be funny to fail me remember you’d be failing him too.” 

 

“Whatever.”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes, tucked the hideous doll in the crook of his arm like he did with Chainsaw when she was feeling crotchety, and rocked it gently. 

 

He felt ridiculous.  The car siren of the doll continued going off. He was rocking a hunk of evil technology in his arms. Wasn’t he supposed to be hardcore? Cool? The cutting edge? 

 

“Gansey -” he started, and then faltered as silence suddenly fell. “ - Oh,” he said. “I had been about to say that I didn’t think that animal knowledge was really going to work the same as baby care, but whaddya know? I’m a natural.” 

 

“Ok,” Gansey was making his way slowly over to his desk, “consider yourself hired as the baby sitter than. I’m tired.” 

 

Ronan snorted, checked his watch. “It’s barely five,” he pointed out, “you’ve had this baby by yourself for, what? Two hours?” 

 

“And a half!” Gansey wailed, collapsing onto his desk chair, “Adam had to take Carruthers to the nurse.” 

 

“I don’t want to know,” Ronan said, following Gansey, slowly so as not to ‘disturb the baby’, “but I’m not doing your homework for you. I don’t even do my homework for you.” 

 

“I’m well aware,” Gansey held his arms out for the doll again, “ok. Fine. Pass her over. You cruel creature.” 

 

Ronan did not pass it over. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to have kids with me, you’ve got to suffer the consequences.” 

 

“So pass her over.” 

 

“What? And expose it to your terrible parenting? I think not.” 

 

“Ok,  _ uncle Ronan. _ ” 

 

“Nope,” Ronan shook his head, “nah. Look. I’ll keep it quiet for you as a  _ favour _ and in return you can do me a favour and not bug me about school.” 

 

Gansey looked like he was about to refuse, then he nodded somewhat mulishly. “You know,” he said, reaching for his journal, “you’re supposed to have a doll as well. You’re in that class with us. It could have been yours too.” 

 

“Please,” Ronan readjusted his hold on the doll and sat on the edge of the desk, “I’d have paired with Adam. He’s less likely to insist on getting attached to it.” 

 

“You’re supposed to bond with her,” Gansey said crossly, scrawling some shit down into his journal. “We have to keep a diary about our week parenting.” 

 

“The diary’s not actually a requirement,” Ronan said, tore a thin strip of paper out of the journal to give him something not doll related to fiddle with, “the teacher just wants to have blackmail material for a whole Aglionby class.” 

 

Gansey didn’t deign this with a proper response, just rolled his eyes and tugged his journal away from Ronan’s reach. 

 

“When does Adam get here?” Ronan asked then, “Is he taking the doll back to St Agnes with him? Won’t it freeze to death there and you’ll both fail?” 

 

“So long as he wraps her in a blanket she’ll be fine,” Gansey mumbled to his pen as he kept writing, “and yes. He gets here about six, and then he’ll take her back to his.” 

 

“Trouble in paradise?” 

 

“What?” 

 

Ronan smirked, flicked the small ball he’d rolled from the paper at Gansey’s head. “Your partner isn’t even staying? You’re living apart?” 

 

“Ha. Ha. Like Adam would just stay here for a homework assignment.” 

 

“I mean,” Ronan shrugged, “it seems like the most likely reason he would stay here. And, I think it’d be easier for him, wouldn’t it? If he made his base here this week, then he wouldn’t have to drop the doll off here or have you pick it up when he goes to his stupid jobs. Saves a lot of time and energy.” 

 

“I don’t know,” Gansey sighed, then looked up at Ronan. “Why do you even care, anyway?” 

 

“I don’t,” Ronan said, shoved his way off of the desk, and handed the doll back over to Gansey. It was apparently in doll sleep mode and didn’t flip back into a wail fest. “I gotta shower.” 

 

“What if she cries again?” Gansey called after him. 

 

Ronan flipped him off as he walked backwards to the bathroom. “Write about it in your diary.” 

 

-

 

When Ronan gets out of the shower, the house is still quiet - demon baby must be still sated - so he goes to his room to feed Chainsaw, throw various shit around for her to catch, and to put pants on. 

 

He is pleased he didn’t go to class today, pleased he isn’t stuck with a hunk of plastic masquerading as a baby. A little less pleased that he missed out on the opportunity to be a dramatic faux parent with Adam because looking after a fake baby together would have been the perfect excuse to spend all of his time with Adam. Maybe if he had gone to class he could have convinced the teacher that he and Adam didn’t need a fake baby because Ronan already had Chainsaw who already acted like a fake baby and she could write up a report on how well she had been coddled at the end of the week. 

 

Stupid. He throws a random dream pebble for Chainsaw and it ricochets off the wall and hits him in the face. She laughs at him as well as a raven can. 

 

He isn’t really intending on coming out of his room when Adam arrives, but his traitorous feet stand him up and walk him out of his room almost as soon as he hears Adam in the main room. 

 

The demon baby provides a good cover for him appearing as it begins wailing while Ronan’s opening his door. 

 

“Should have known your face would scare babies,” he drawled as he stomped into the room to the view of Gansey attempting to hand the doll over to Adam. 

 

Their heads were tilted together, foreheads touching, hands overlapping. Ronan’s stomach was a pool of jealous misery.

 

“I think she just sensed your presence,” Adam said calmly, standing up straight now he had the doll scooped in his arms, “That or her timer went off that she’s supposed to be fed right now.” 

 

“Pedantic,” Ronan said, “like her daddy.” 

 

“Don’t be a shit just because you’re jealous, Lynch,” Gansey said, his tone all a warning. 

 

For a half moment, while Adam brushed past him on his way to the bathroom where Gansey had left the doll bottle, Ronan worried that Gansey understood exactly what jealousy was churning up inside his guts, was telling him that they both knew. Then he got it and felt like an idiot. 

 

“Jealous?” He snorted, making his way over to where Gansey was sprawled on the couch in a picture of fatigue, “I assure you I am in no way jealous over your demon spawn, man.” 

 

Adam comes back out of the bathroom with doll in arm, bottle in doll mouth, eyebrows raised. 

 

“Don’t worry,” he said, all accent and no hiding, “we know this isn’t your thing.” 

 

Ronan had worked very hard for a long time to have the kind of reputation that makes people want to cross the street upon seeing him. That means that no-one would trust him with a baby or a kind word. Now, though, he wants to very quickly knock down this facade and show Adam (Gansey already knew, man), that he knew how to hold things gently, that he’d grown up bottle feeding abandoned lambs and early cows, that he was pretty sure something was weird with him because he  _ always _ wanted to hold babies when he saw them. He considered - briefly - reminding Adam of the baby mice, of how soft he had been with them. 

 

“You know me so well,” he scowled at Adam instead, baring his teeth in a leer, “I’d probably accidentally drown it within the first five minutes.” 

 

“That’s a weird way to say purposefully,” Adam retorted, dropping himself down on the couch next to Gansey. 

 

“I wouldn’t!” Ronan couldn’t help himself, it turned out, “Y’know, I think I’d actually be fucking better than the both of you put together.” 

 

“Sure,” Adam said. 

 

“He is very good at rocking her,” Gansey added, eyes closed, “but imagine him trying to put her to sleep with a screamo lullaby.” 

 

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ronan said, very grumpy now, “I’ll be fucking amazing.” 

 

“Uh-huh.” 

 

“Uh-huh,” Ronan thumped the back of the couch, “I’m going home with you, dude,” he said to Adam, “and I’ll pull the late night shift so you can sleep because I’m a natural at this whole caring thing.” 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“You were the one with something to prove,” Adam said. He’s speaking loudly so he can be heard over the sound of the running shower and through the thin walls, and the low warning wails of the doll.

 

“Sure,” Ronan snapped back, “but I didn’t sign up to be the Goddamned babysitter!” 

 

“Lynch,” Adam’s head - all wet curls - appeared around the edge of the door, dripping on the floorboards. “Just change the nappy! It’s not even real shit! It’s legitimately  _ just _ the stupid mixture we have to feed her.” 

 

Ronan glares down at the doll he’s only holding carefully because Adam would probably kick him out if he didn’t. He doesn’t make a move to do anything with the doll. 

 

“If you don’t do it,” Adam said, disappearing back behind the door, “I will fail, and I refuse to fail such a stupid paper.” 

 

“Fail it on purpose,” Ronan suggested, “as protest. You didn’t sign up to do nanny training. You signed up to do Latin.” 

 

“I would prefer to get the hell away from here before I rock my only life boat,” Adam retorted, muffled. 

 

“Aglionby is far from your only life boat!” 

 

Adam didn’t reply to that, so Ronan grumbled to himself a little more, then grudgingly reached for the ‘baby supplies’ bag. This whole thing was stupid. Why did the doll creators have to make this thing so uncanny valley? They could have skipped the whole wet nappy shit. It would have saved money as well - not having to feed it packets of shit you can’t just scoop back into the bottle. Although - maybe they could. The baby wouldn’t know after all. 

 

Anyway. No. He wasn’t doing that. It was all just a money making scheme for the creators or whatever. He should bring it up with Adam and get him pissy about that. 

 

He changed the nappy. It was fine. It didn’t even stink. The doll turned off the noise, and while he rocked it grumpily, its eyes closed jerkily in a pantomime of sleep. 

 

“You got her to sleep?” Adam asked, coming out of the bathroom, rubbing hard at his head with a threadbare towel. “You sure look like the babysitter.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan grunted, tossed the wet nappy at Adam. 

 

“Ew,” Adam snorted, sidestepping the baby thrown nappy easily. “That was meant to go in the rubbish, shit head.” 

 

“It’s a whole lotta waste,” Ronan pointed out, ignoring Adam’s words, the nappy, and Adam’s purposeful glare at the nappy. “Y’know? Food and nappies for a fake baby? It still has to be made and thrown out, and no one gleans any value from it.” 

 

“I’m not spending money on it,” Adam replied, sitting himself down at his shoddy desk and pulling his backpack towards him, “so I currently don’t give a shit.” 

 

“God,” Ronan said, miming shock, “don’t let Sargant hear you! It’s our responsibility to save the earth!” 

 

“It’s less funny when what you’re saying is true,” Adam said, voice sliding into study tone (stilted and far off), “maybe you should write a letter of complaint to the school if you’re so riled up about it.” 

 

“Riled up,” Ronan snorted. 

 

Adam didn’t respond again, already well and truly sucked into whatever nerd-jerking he was doing, so Ronan turned his attention back to the doll. It could fake drink, shit, and scream, but it couldn’t fake breathing. It was like holding an unruly cinder block and feigning affection for it. He kind of hated it. 

 

He put it down much more gently than his disgust towards it accounted for - pillowing it with Adam’s blankets to keep it from rolling and falling off the bed or whatever - and got up to dispose of the nappy. 

 

Adam didn’t say anything until Ronan had trashed it, washed his hands, and put all the baby shit back in the baby bag. 

 

“Feeling paternal?”

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan said, resisted the urge to kick Adam’s mattress. “Are you feeling paternal?” 

 

“Pretty sure I have no capacity for that,” Adam replied, far too calmly. 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan said again, “don’t say that around little Beatrice.” 

 

“Beatrice?” Adam swiveled around in his chair to squint at Ronan, and then snorted, shaking his head. “No.” 

 

“Gansey didn’t tell me its name,” Ronan shrugged, “and neither did you.” 

 

“We haven’t named her,” Adam frowned, “and we’re not naming her Beatrice.” 

 

“Whatever,” Ronan dropped himself down carefully onto the bed next to the doll, “I guess it can just be my special godfather name for her.” 

 

“Piss off,” Adam laughed, “you’re such an idiot, Lynch.” 

 

He returned to his schoolwork, leaving Ronan glaring at the back of his head. He often spent the night at Adam’s, he knew very well that half the time spent there would involve Adam doing homework. He was used to waiting it out, or irritating Adam all through it, and yet today he felt restless and grouchy, and like he might just try out the doll’s warning system of short low wails before the real crying began. 

 

“If I was going to complain about the uselessness of this class,” Adam said to his desk, “I would point out that learning to care for a baby isn’t going to be a skill that some people are going to need.” 

 

“Like Tad,” Ronan agreed, “he is never going to procreate.” 

 

“Like me,” Adam said firmly. “I’ve got bad genes.” 

 

Ronan glared at the back of Adam’s head again. It was a common theme in spending time at Adam’s during study time. 

 

“Bad genes?” He said, casual, “You talking about how fucking weird your knees look? Because I know it’s unfortunate, but I don’t think it’s enough to never ever want to pass it on to anyone.” 

 

“Don’t be a pisshead,” Adam said calmly, “you know what I’m talking about.” 

 

Sure, Ronan knew what he was talking about. 

 

“You might have to spell it out for me,” he said, shifting further back on the bed and reaching out to poke one of the doll’s hard legs. “Because all I can think of is how geeky you are - but I think that can be nurtured out of babies.” 

 

Adam didn’t say anything in response, just kept scrawling at his homework. Ronan felt itchy and irritated. There was nothing in easy reach to throw at Adam. 

 

“So,” Ronan said loudly, “if you didn’t have such shitty genes, would you want kids?” 

 

“God!” Adam heaved a sigh, and dropped his pencil on paper, but didn’t turn around. Just propped his elbows up on the desk and his head up in his hands. “I don’t know! Maybe? I like kids well enough, I guess, but I - why would I ever think about it if I already know I’m not going to have any?” 

 

“I mean,” Ronan shrugged, never mind that Adam couldn’t see him, “there’s always adoption.” 

 

“The bad genes are in  _ me _ , Lynch,” Adam said, very, very calm. He had picked up his pen again, “I don’t need to make the baby to ruin it.” 

 

There was still nothing in easy reach for Ronan to chuck at Adam. This was a serious design flaw in the room and life in general. 

 

“Whatever,” Ronan said. 

 

Adam had already returned to his homework. 

 

-

  
  
  


By the time Adam had finished nerding it up, the baby -  _ doll _ \- had woken up again once needing to be fed. Ronan had fed it, rocked it, fucking swaddled it, and it had ‘asleep’ again. 

 

“You’re fucking welcome,” Ronan groaned from the mattress, as sarcastically as he can muster while trying to be semi quiet. Adam had implied that maybe the doll had an audio sensor to tell if you were being too loud while it slept, and he wasn't willing to find out if this was a cruel trick or not. “You could say thanks, y’know. Pencil it into your busy schedule.” 

 

“‘Mfanks,” Adam called through his toothbrush, “whadd’d’i do w’out you.” 

 

“God, Parrish,” Ronan snorted, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, “were you raised in a barn?” 

 

He heard Adam spit in the sink, rinse his mouth, and then the floorboards creaked at the foot of the mattress. 

 

“That was you,” Adam pointed out, “remember? You’re the one raised with no manners.” 

 

Ronan dropped his hands so he could grin up at Adam before turning it into a glare because that was probably more appropriate. Adam snorted, kicked the mattress, and turned away from Ronan to tug his shirt off. 

 

“You’re staying?” 

 

“I said I was,” Ronan replied, “someone’s gotta change the nappies.” 

 

“Whatever,” Adam said. 

 

His back was still to Ronan, which meant that Ronan got to watch the muscles in his back as he threw his shirt at his wardrobe (a chair), and then hunched as he fiddled with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. He wondered briefly if this was a purposeful gift to him. Being turned away so that Ronan could stare as much as he liked. He was pretty sure Adam  _ knew _ he was being stared at, and it didn’t make a huge amount of sense for him to allow it to happen so often and for so long if he didn’t at least not dislike it. 

 

“Why do you care so much?” Adam asked, jolting Ronan out of his freckle induced reverie. 

 

“What?” Ronan asked, screwing his face up in an approximation of disinterest as Adam turned around finally to face him. 

 

“About the possibility of me having kids,” Adam replied, far too casual to be actually casual. 

 

“Because it’s bullshit,” Ronan grunted, figuring this route was the safest for his own secrets that weren’t secrets. 

 

“What?” Adam prompted, dropped to his knees on the mattress, and then crawled up beside Ronan’s legs to prop himself on the pillow beside him. “What’s bullshit?” 

 

“Your bad genes,” Ronan said bluntly, “I thought you were meant to be the science geek.” 

 

“It was a metaphor,” Adam scowled. 

 

“Sure,” Ronan shifted on the mattress so he could pretend he was simply staring nonchalantly at the ceiling instead of on the verge of a heart attack. “But it was a bullshit metaphor. It’s like saying that if your dad cut your foot off, all your children would be born without a fucking foot. Or like, you’d cut their feet off too.” 

 

“What the hell!” 

 

“Just because your dad is a fucking asshole doesn’t mean you would be too,” Ronan continued staunchly, because he was already in this far, he may as well keep wading out. “I mean; sure you’re an asshole, but not like that, man. If not because of like, any fucking good traits of yours, than at least through spite. There’s no way you’d let yourself become like him.” 

 

“Shut up,” Adam grumbled. 

 

Ronan risked a glance at him. His face was squished half on the pillow, half against the wall. He did look a little like he wanted Ronan to shut up. 

 

“Anyway,” Ronan said, “It’s not like you’ve hurt this fucking doll, and it’s only schoolwork.” 

 

“I’ve only had it a day,” Adam replied in a near monotone, “plus it’s only mechanical. If I got pissed off at mechanics I’d be kicked out of my job at Boyds.” 

 

“God,” Ronan rolled onto his side, “what the fuck do you want me to say, Parrish?” 

 

“Nothing,” Adam gritted out, “I want you to drop it.” 

 

“You were the one who brought it up again!” 

 

“Drop it!” 

 

“Whatever!” 

 

“Whatever!” 

 

Ronan huffed angrily, rolled onto his other side so he didn’t have to look at Adam. Carefully rearranged the doll so he wouldn’t squash it while he slept. Listened as Adam also huffed angrily and shuffled about on the small amount of mattress left for him. He tended to like to sleep facing the wall, so their backs pressed together. Or possibly so that they wouldn’t be face to face because that would be too  _ gay _ or something. 

 

“Goodnight,” Ronan tried. 

 

Adam huffed again, then, “night.” 

 

-

If this was any other night, or any other fight, they would probably have just ignored each other for the rest of the night, and then, the next morning. Would have dressed silently and Ronan would have pissed off. Maybe they would ignore each other the rest of the day, maybe they would talk as if nothing had happened. 

 

However, tonight there was a doll that woke every couple of hours with a complaint, so ignoring each other was off the table. 

 

Adam stumbled around in the dark to fetch the baby bag, Ronan changed the nappy. Vague sleep for a couple of hours. Ronan slumped off to the bathroom and made up the stupid doll juice, Adam fed the doll. Ronan burped the doll. Vague sleep for a couple of hours. Ronan has a weird dream in which Chainsaw pecks the doll out of his arms and then turns into a particular bitey baby. 

 

-

 

“Lynch,” Adam hissed. 

 

The room around the was still dim so he hadn’t overslept. Maybe it was his turn to get up and do something. There was no wailing though, so he simply grunted and kept his eyes shut. 

 

“Lynch,” Adam hissed again, and paired the hiss with a sharp bite - no? - pinch? On his arm. 

 

“Holy shit,” Ronan grumbled, eyes snapping open and then shut again, “you don’t have to resort to torture, Parrish, I’m fucking awake.” 

 

The doll was in his arms - which was weird because he had been very careful not to go to sleep actually holding it so as not to give Adam a chance to fucking take a photo of him or something. 

 

Adam  _ bit _ him again. This was not right. He opened his eyes properly, glared at Adam. Adam was holding the doll.  _ Something bit his fucking arm again _ . 

 

“Fuck!” He sat up quickly, and the  _ thing _ in his arms clung to him angrily and also squawked in a very familiar way. 

 

In his arms was. 

 

In his arms was a fucking baby. 

 

Not the fucking doll. 

 

A fucking baby. 

 

A fucking… familiar baby?? 

 

A baby with very beady black eyes and raven black hair and a far too knowing expression. 

 

“Oh fuck,” Ronan repeated, understanding very annoying in his stomach. 

 

“Oh fuck?” Adam mocked, “Is that all? What the  _ hell _ , Lynch? Are you trying to make some fucking point?” 

 

“What?” Ronan asked, confused, the baby - fucking  _ Chainsaw _ \- was making angry squawky bird noises that sounded very odd coming from a human mouth. “Wha-  _ no _ . No, Parrish. God. Not everything's about you.” 

 

“So what the hell-” Adam began, and Ronan interrupted him. 

 

“It’s Chainsaw,” he said, as if it were obvious, “I had a dumb dream that she was the baby because your doll kept waking me up and now - “ 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“I think our connection is shot,” Gansey said loudly over the phone, “because I could have sworn you said -” 

 

“That Ronan’s dream sucked Chainsaw in and spat her out as a human baby, yes, yes, Gansey, I did say that!” 

 

Adam was speaking loudly as well, though not to overcome any fault with Ronan’s phone’s connection, more so he could hear himself over the noise of both the doll doing its demon hunger squawk  _ and _ Chainsaw complaining very loudly about her recent transition to wingless and thumbed. 

 

At present, Ronan was juggling both of these noise makers - one in each arm - attempting to jam the bottle in the doll’s mouth while not letting Chainsaw leap out of his arms to fly off in a huff because; 1. She was missing her flying instruments, and 2. Babies had an unfortunate habit of squishing badly if dropped. 

 

“Parrish,” Ronan called over the ruckus, “tell Dick to get over here and hang the fuck up so you can give me a motherfucking hand!” 

 

“I’ve got to go before we get arrested for… kidnapping? I dunno Gansey. Look. Can you come over? Thanks. Ok. Bye.”  

 

Adam ended the call, threw the phone at bed, and allowed Ronan to thrust the doll into his arms. 

 

“God, God, God,” Ronan mumbled, jiggling Chainsaw, “Please, you stupid little feather brain, stop wriggling - ow! God! And stop biting!” 

 

“Stop putting your fingers near her mouth, then,” Adam suggested, much calmer now the doll had stopped screaming and so the din was halved. “It’s your fault for dreaming her with teeth in the first place.” 

 

“None of this was purposeful, and you know,” Ronan snapped, then, much softer, “Please, Chainsaw, I’m fucking sorry, ok?” 

 

Chainsaw gave him as dirty a look a bird trapped in a baby can manage, but - miraculously - also shut up. 

 

Ronan heaved a sigh in the sudden silence, and then dropped himself down straight to the floor to sit with his legs in front of him and his back against the wall and Chainsaw held tight in his arms. She was a very chubby little baby. 

 

“What now?” Adam asked, sitting as well but choosing to go down slower and sit on the actual chair. “We’ve got to change her back. She can’t live like this.” 

 

“I can’t live like this,” Ronan added, quite grouchy, “if you’ve got any great ideas, Einstein, I’m happy to hear ‘em.” 

 

“Maybe it’ll wear off -” Adam started. 

 

“I said great ideas! Not placatory statements!” 

 

“Or maybe you have to take her back into your dream and change her in it,” Adam continued loudly, “try some patience, Lynch.” 

 

“Right,” Ronan readjusted his grip on Chainsaw as she started making irritated noises again, “so your suggestion is that I just go back to sleep and hope shit works out, OR, that I stay awake and hope shit works out?” 

 

“My suggestion,” Adam said, removing the bottle from the doll’s mouth to check if it was still in scream mode, “is that you stop being an asshole before you negatively influence your daughter.” 

 

“Piss off.” 

 

-

 

Two hours later, Gansey was considerably pissed off. 

 

“It’s a terrible idea!” He said, as loudly as he could while still appearing normal to any onlookers. “This is a terrible idea! Parrish! Why won’t you back me up on this?” 

 

“Uh,” Adam said, he was busy adjusting the strap on his bag while not dropping monster doll, “Because I’m not Ronan’s keeper, and also because… it could be very amusing?” 

 

“No!” Gansey moaned, “It could be very bad! They’ll find out it’s a  _ real _ baby -” he dropped his voice to a near whisper here, “- and take it away, and want to find out where it came from and how Ronan got it, and -” 

 

“Scandal,” Ronan grinned, tugging the fabric of the hastily bought baby sling so that Chainsaw would stop trying to chew her way out. “Think about how mad Declan would be.” 

 

“Can’t you think about how mad I am?” Gansey asked, voice still low because they had entered their old Latin classroom now. “Right now? In front of you?” 

 

“Well you didn’t think about how mad I was,” Ronan said, voice heavy with mock sorrow, “the two of you having a baby without me. I thought we had something, Gansey, and then I find you’re off gallivanting with Parrish!” 

 

“It’s worse than that,” Adam dead panned, sitting down carefully at his desk, “he knocked me up and left me with the baby.” 

 

“What a bastard!” Ronan gasped, dropping himself down at Gansey’s desk before Gansey could. “Dick Campbell Gansey the third! A heartless snob.” 

 

“Guys,” Gansey grunted, sitting down at Ronan’s desk behind Adam’s, “If we could stop being so amused with ourselves at my expense, that’d be great.”

 

“I know you didn’t really abandon me and Beatrice,” Adam sighed, leaning back in his chair to grin at Gansey, “but I do sometimes feel like a single father.” 

 

“Beatrice? Wh- Ronan! This is your fault, isn’t it?” 

 

-

 

To say that their teacher was surprised at Ronan in the classroom may have been an understatement. 

 

Usually people were surprised at Ronan in the classroom simply because he did not frequent many classrooms, but Ronan was more of the opinion that today’s teacher was mostly surprised because he’d never seen Ronan before, had probably heard of Ronan’s infamous skipping and terrible school policies from other teachers, and hadn’t been expecting to see him there, with a baby and a journal and as much a look of innocence any non-dreamed Lynch could muster up. 

 

“Uh,” The teacher said, “You must be Lynch. You weren’t in yesterday.” 

 

“I was,” Ronan replied, jostled Chainsaw gently in his arms, “you gave me this demon doll yesterday.” 

 

Chainsaw was not only hidden in the sling, but also wrapped in a blanket within the sling so as to avoid anyone getting a good look at her and realising that not only did her skin look scarily real, but so did the rest of her. Plus all the dolls were as pale as the patriarchy and Chainsaw did not fit in. 

 

“I -” the teacher said, frowned, “I don’t recall. I distinctly remember marking you as absent.” 

 

“Rude,” Ronan said, which earned him a grunt of disapproval from Gansey behind him, “I was definitely here.”

 

“You weren’t,” Tad supplied from across the room, “He wasn’t here yesterday, Sir.” 

 

“Maybe,” Ronan said loudly, causing Chainsaw to grumble, “you somehow overlooked me due to Tad needing to go to the nurse because he’s a nutsack that hasn’t dropped yet.” 

 

“Boys,” the teacher groaned, “Alright, fine, Lynch. If you were here in class yesterday I expect you to know all the techniques we covered and not need to play catch up today. Carruthers, please sit down.” 

 

Ronan poked his tongue out at Tad, Adam elbowed him in the side. 

 

“Don’t push your luck,” he said, but he sounded more amused than irritated, so Ronan just grinned at him. 

 

“Hey Parrish,” he said, “wanna bet my baby can beat your baby up?” 

 

-

 

“Ok,” Blue said, once she had been sitting at Gansey and Ronan’s table at Nino’s for a good six and a half minutes. “Ok. So just. Explain to me again, first, why you  _ took her to school with you _ , and then, why you dreamed a  _ baby _ with teeth.” 

 

Gansey was holding his and Adam’s doll, rocking it awkwardly as one might cradle a bomb they were told would go off it it stopped moving. Ronan still had Chainsaw in the sling. Also in the sling was a slice of pizza she was eating like a baby should not be eating a pizza and how Chainsaw had probably been dreaming of eating a pizza her whole life. Both hands shoving it into her (very toothy) mouth. 

 

“She couldn’t have a beak so she had to have something for biting with,” Ronan said, because he figured that made the most sense. “And fun.” 

 

“You’re an idiot,” Blue said, but she said it with a smirk and a kick to Ronan’s shins. “What’s the plan?” 

 

“Well,” Gansey said mournfully (mournful mostly because he hadn’t yet figured out how to free his hands enough to eat pizza while rocking the doll), “we already tried Ronan dreaming her back into a bird this morning.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan chipped in, shoving half a slice in his mouth and dripping a sausage slice onto Chainsaw’s forehead, “I couldn’t get her into the dream. Which is weird, because as a bird she like… swoops in and out whenever she fucking likes.” 

 

  
“Do you think,” Blue asked slowly, “that she’s still… Chainsaw in there? Like, is she thinking like a raven, or is she thinking like a baby?” 

 

“Oh,” Ronan shook his head, “definitely a bird. No baby is as malevolent as this little devil.” 

 

“You’re getting dirty looks,” Gansey pointed out, “I can’t tell if its because you’re referring to your  _ doll _ as a devil, or if it’s because you dropped sausage on its head.” 

 

“No one is going to believe this wriggly thing is a doll, Richard,” Blue said, voice low so as not to be overheard by foul faced patrons, while Ronan picked the sausage off of Chainsaw’s face and plopped it into her mouth instead. “I can’t believe you guys got away with it at school.” 

 

“It’s easy enough to hide one real baby amongst a whole room of screaming plastic ones,” Ronan said, pulled the finger at a disapproving customer walking past the table. “Anyway. I can’t get her into my dream, or at least I couldn’t this morning, so, ideas, oh witchy one?” 

 

“I’m the un-witchy one,” Blue replied sourly, kicked Ronan’s shin again - harder than last time. “Not off the top of my head… maybe you could dream a cure? So you don’t have to get her in there with you?” 

 

“Hm,” Ronan said, “could work. I’ll try it. But like, concepts as vague as that are harder to pull out than it might sound.” 

 

“And yet,” Blue said dryly, “you still manage to grab a good handfuls of hair clips identical to mine except they scream murder squash when you put them in your hair.” 

 

Ronan shrugged, grinned widely. 

 

-

  
  


“Lynch,” Adam said, not rolling himself out from under the car. Apparently he was psychic now. “What are you doing here?” 

 

“How’d you know it was me?” Ronan asked, dropping down into a crouch, one hand out to balance himself against the front of the car, the other cupping Chainsaw in the sling. 

 

“I thought I recognized your foul stench,” Adam replied, in a truly awful imitation of Leia, “plus I heard front desk coo at Chainsaw.  _ And _ you have a very distinctive walk.”  

 

“I don’t,” Ronan said, tugged at Adam’s jumpsuit leg, “I thought your shift was over. Gansey’s going spare at Monmouth with Beatrice.” 

 

“So why aren’t you there helping out?” Adam replied, doing something under the car that involved a lot of noises that Chainsaw apparently found scary. 

 

“Because I’m here picking you up,” Ronan replied, “I put your bike in my boot already. Hurry up.” 

 

“God,” Adam groaned, then, “why’d you bring Chainsaw?” 

 

“She didn’t want to be left with Gansey,” Ronan replied, bouncing in his squat to soothe Chainsaw who was still grumbling about the car noises. “And Gansey had his hands full anyway.” 

 

“Think she gets that from her dad?” Adam asked, finally rolling out from under the car and sitting up, wiping grease off of his forehead. 

 

“I’m not her dad,” Ronan replied, then, “gets what?” 

 

“The clinginess,” Adam grinned, “I bet you were the type of baby who cried if he was put down for more than two seconds too. I bet you were carried until you were like four.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan said, shoved at Adam’s shoulder, then gripped it hard as the shove pushed him off balance. 

 

“But I bet she’s cuter,” Adam continued, his grin wicked. He leaned in towards Ronan and Chainsaw and peered in at her still swaddled up. “Do you think she’d be offended if I said she’s cuter as a baby than a bird?” 

 

“I’m offended,” Ronan replied archly, regained his balance, and then scooped Chainsaw out of the sling and straight into Adam’s arms, “if she’s so cute, you can hold her for a bit. I’m all sweaty from having her clinging on to me all day.” 

 

“Gross,” Adam grunted, but wrapped his arms around her and her blankets anyway. 

 

Ronan pushed himself up into standing, then reached down to give Adam a hand up, laughing as Adam’s knees clicked loudly. 

 

“Old man,” he said, “you’re done, then?” 

 

“This kind of work is hard on the knees,” Adam replied crossly, and then snorted as Ronan waggled his eyebrows at him. “Stop it. I’m done. I’ve gotta sign out first. Take her back?” 

 

“Nah,” Ronan said, crossing his arms, “she likes you so you’re gonna hold her so I can take a fucking break.” 

 

“Oh c’mon,” Adam said, then his eyes narrowed and he stared at Ronan for a long moment before turning around, Chainsaw still in his arms, and headed off towards the sign off sheet. 

 

-

 

“Thank God you’re back,” Gansey moaned as Ronan shut the front door behind Adam - Chainsaw still in his arms - “I keep… I don’t even know, bumping her? She keeps waking up or something and crying again.” 

 

“Should have hired a nanny, you rich bastard,” Ronan grinned, kicking one of his boots off in the direction of his bedroom. 

 

Blue was sitting on the couch, very obviously taking a lot of pleasure in not helping out at all with the doll, but she happily chipped in here. “Says the other rich bastard,” she said, “where’s your nanny, then, Lynch?” 

 

“Right here,” Ronan said, hopping on his socked foot over to where Adam and Chainsaw had wandered. He draped his arms over Adam’s shoulders. “Isn’t he the best?” 

 

“Hey!” Gansey cried out, “Adam’s my partner!” 

 

“Hey,” Adam retorted, rolling his eyes, “I’m holding a baby, not being a nanny. Piss off, Lynch.” 

 

Ronan did not piss off, simply stood on one foot while he leaned down to untangle his shoelaces, keeping balance with his other arm still around Adam’s shoulders, and then kicked the other shoe off after the first. 

 

“Poor Adam,” Blue grinned, “stuck in the middle. How’d you end up with two babies, Adam?” 

 

“I’m not taking any responsibility for Chainsaw,” Adam said firmly, though he was currently rocking her up on his shoulder, “and can we maybe just call Beatrice the doll?” 

 

“Beatrice?” Blue snorted. 

 

“Parrish,” Ronan groaned, “you can’t say things like that around Chainsaw, she’ll be so sad!” 

 

“She’s too busy burping to listen,” Adam replied. “Gansey, give the doll to Ronan seeing as he won’t take Chainsaw back.” 

 

“Ronan,” Gansey called. 

 

-

 

“Honestly,” Gansey said, much later in the evening as they all sat around a greasy couple boxes of half eaten pizza, “it’s such a good idea, you staying here tonight, Parrish. It wouldn’t make any sense for you and Ronan to go back to St Agnes with Beatrice and Chainsaw.” 

 

“Why would Ronan come back with me?” Adam asked blandly, shoveling food into his mouth carefully so as to avoid getting tomato sauce on the doll he was bottle feeding in his lap. 

 

“Oh,” Gansey said, “I - don’t know?” 

 

“Shut up, Dick,” Ronan said, “and pass a slice of the cheesy garlic one.” 

 

“This sounds like it’s going to so much fun,” Blue said cheerfully, “you three. In this hell house. Two vaguely demonic babies. It should be a tv show.” 

 

“You could stay..?” Gansey suggested in the sort of tone that implied he knew what her answer was. 

 

“Or,” she replied, “I could go home and sleep in my comfortable bed and not have to be woken up by these scream machines at various ungodly hours.” 

 

“I thought every hour in that house was ungodly,” Ronan said. 

 

“Don’t be an ass,” Blue replied. 

 

“Anyway,” Adam butted in loudly, “it’s not going to be exciting here. The doll is easy to keep quiet, Chainsaw is remarkably well behaved considering who birthed her, and we’re just going to sleep. Well. I’m going to sleep. Ronan is going to attempt to dream a cure and Gansey is probably going to stay awake all night waiting for the doll to go off.” 

 

“Gee,” Gansey said, “thanks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was the type of baby you couldn't put down, so, like, sorry parents.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleepover time!!!!

It would have made a lot more sense to Ronan if they had just gone with the easy option; himself sleeping in his own bed, Gansey sleeping in Gansey’s bed, and Adam sleeping in Noah’s bed (Chainsaw could sleep with Ronan and the doll could  _ sleep  _ with Adam). However. Gansey was (understandably) excited over having Adam staying the night, and had decreed that it was really going to be a sleepover, which apparently meant that all the mattresses had to be dragged into the main room until the floor was covered with mattress and blankets and pillows and Ronan was a little worried he was going to lose Chainsaw in the mess. 

 

“Parrish,” Gansey said loudly from the bathroom where he was attempting to both bottle feed the doll and brush his teeth, “you should sleep in the middle.” 

 

Adam had been sitting hunched over on the edge of the mattresses, scrawling in one of his school notebooks, but he looked up for long enough to roll his eyes at Ronan who was lying on his side near Adam, Chainsaw propped against his stomach. 

 

“Because,” Gansey continued, not put off by the silence, “then we can both look after Beatrice, and -” 

 

“Gansey,” Ronan called back, loud - Chainsaw squawked her displeasure at this - “we know you only want Adam in the middle because you’re afraid Chainsaw will try and bite you.” 

 

Now Gansey was the one who was silent, though not for long. Ronan grinned at Adam, who was snorting and shaking his head slightly. 

 

“She has piranha like teeth, Lynch!” He responded, “And she already bit my nose once today.” 

 

-

 

Adam held Chainsaw while Ronan got changed. Normally, he would just get changed wherever he was in Monmouth because who the fuck cared and Gansey had long since given up on suggesting Ronan might like privacy to get undressed in. Tonight, he did just the same, for a few reasons. The main reason being that if he went to his room to change into his sleep clothes Gansey would surely notice his unusual propriety and comment, and possibly just as important, the second reason being that Ronan knew that Adam liked to look at his tattoo, and Ronan  _ liked _ Adam looking at his tattoo, and who was he to deprive them both of this pleasure? 

 

So. He got changed right there, chatting inanely with Adam and watching closely as Adam watched Chainsaw’s face closely as he rocked her asleep, and then he turned around to do a series of faux stretches until he could feel eyes on his skin. Maybe he would normally sleep with a shirt on, but it wasn’t such routine that anyone would comment on him not.

 

“I’ll hold her while you get changed,” he offered, turning back around quickly enough that Adam was still looking at him under his lashes, “you can borrow some of my shit if you like.” 

 

He dropped himself back down next to Adam and Adam transferred the half asleep Chainsaw into his arms, and then stood up and disappeared. 

 

Ronan fell back carefully against the mattress, cradling Chainsaw carefully as she grumbled against his chest, and stared at the ceiling while his skin still tingled with the feel of Adam’s gaze. 

 

“Gansey,” he called, “did you die in there?” 

 

A beat. 

 

“I got toothpaste in her hair,” Gansey replied mournfully, “I’m trying to get it out without waking her.” 

 

Ronan snorted, then startled as Adam appeared back in his line of sight, still in his day clothes. 

 

“You found nothing to fit?” Ronan asked. Adam lifted his hand to show he was in fact holding a pair of Ronan’s sweatpants and a loose jumper in his hand. “Oh,” Ronan said. Oh. 

 

He sat up as quickly as he could while trying not to disturb a small toothy baby. Adam, standing right in front of him and looking more abashed than usual, stared at him blankly. 

 

“What?” Adam asked. 

 

Ronan shrugged, then plastered on a grin, “You gonna give me a strip tease?” he asked, “Should I put some music on?” 

 

“I’m not stripping to Murder Squash,” Adam said with a snort, and Ronan’s eyebrows lifted. 

 

“So,” he said, “you  _ are _ stripping then?” 

 

“No,” Adam said firmly, then, with possibly too much of a sly smirk, added; “unless you’re planning on sticking cash in my boxers.” 

 

“Oh damn,” Ronan drawled, “I left my wallet in my other pants.” 

 

“No show for you then,” Adam said cheerfully, then completely contradicted this by unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them off. 

 

This was a little bit more open than Ronan was used to Adam being. He possibly ruined it immediately. 

 

“Your boxers have ducks on!” He cackled. 

 

“They were on sale,” Adam replied, entirely unbothered, “and,” he added, folding his jeans (what lunatic folds their jeans?), “Blue thought they were cute.” 

 

“What?” Ronan’s mouth spat out before he could control it, “When did Blue see your box- oh. Right.” 

 

“No,” Adam said, possibly more sharply than the situation warranted. “We were shopping together. That’s all.” 

 

“Ah,” Ronan said. 

 

Adam pulled the sweatpants on, had to tie the cord tightly so as to stop them from slipping down his skinny hips, then tugged his shirt off quickly and folded that as well before dropping it on top of his jeans. It had to be purposeful, surely. This slow undressing and dressing. Coming out to do it where Ronan could see. Everything Adam did was purposeful, so this too, had to be.

 

“Parrish,” he said, all too aware of how rough his voice was. Adam was holding the jumper loosely, like he was regretting bringing it out with him.

 

“Ok!” Gansey announced, finally finishing up in the bathroom, “I got it all out, she just smells minty fresh now!” 

 

Adam pulled the jumper on with surprising speed. 

 

“Good job, Dick,” Ronan growled, shuffling on his ass away from the side of the mattress and Adam, “Con-fucking-grats.” 

 

“Oooo-kay,” Gansey said, still cheerful as he crossed the room over to the make-shift bed, “I was gone for barely five minutes and you two are already fighting? Maybe I should go in the middle.” 

 

“Chainsaw told me she’s planning on eating your earlobes tonight,” Ronan said, tugging at the blankets underneath him so he could get in, “so, sure, good luck.” 

 

“Ha, ha,” Gansey said, very carefully stepping around the mattress to get in as far from Ronan and Chainsaw as possible before getting in and taking up half the bed. “I know she can’t speak to you.” 

 

“Do you?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

The mattresses bounced a little then as Adam stepped onto them. In theory, there ought to have been quite a lot of room between each of them, but seeing as Gansey was a starfish sleeper, and Ronan was sprawled on his side with Chainsaw on his arm, the gap between them was a lot smaller than anticipated. Adam kicked at Gansey’s leg, nudged Ronan’s knee, and got in under the blankets. 

 

“I should have gone home,” Adam sighed, wriggling down, “you two could have handled it.” 

 

“Well,” Gansey said, “I for one am very glad you’re here.” 

 

“He’s so glad,” Ronan said, “that he wrote a whole speech while he was in the bathroom. It starts, ‘my fellow countrymen -’.” 

 

“Don’t be absurd,” Gansey said, but through a barely stifled snort. 

 

Adam snorted as well, but then seemed to switch straight into serious mode. 

 

“Ok,” he said, “Gansey. If you take the first Beatrice shift, I’ll take the second, and so on?” 

 

“Sounds good,” Gansey said, “uh, am I sleeping with her, then?” 

 

“We’re all sleeping with her,” Adam said, “but if you’re worried about squishing her, just put her in between the two of us, you don’t need to cuddle her.” 

 

“Thank God,” Gansey sighed, shuffling around as he deposited the doll between them. 

 

Adam fiddled with the blanket around her, and then spoke again, “And Lynch,” he said, “I swear to god, if I wake up to Chainsaw nibbling on me, I will manifest a bed of thorns.” 

 

“Ok, hotshot,” Ronan laughed, “Gansey. Turn off the light?” 

 

-

 

Next to the doll, Chainsaw was remarkably well behaved. Possibly because she wasn’t a real baby, or, a doll designed to mimic a real baby, and therefore didn’t need feeding or changing as often (also possibly because she’d eaten a fuck ton of pizza and was probably going to be nice and full until the rapture.), which meant that while Gansey and Adam got up several times in the first few hours of the night, Ronan lay there with Chainsaw snoring in his arms, waiting for Adam to get back into bed next to him. 

 

Around three am, Gansey and Chainsaw snoring, Adam was climbing back into bed after first feeding the doll and then peeing. Usually all it took for Adam to sleep was him closing his eyes, but apparently it was evading him because rather than just getting under the blankets and immediately slumping into sleep, he got under the blankets, rearranged the doll, wriggled his legs, rolled over, rolled back over, rolled over again, and then reached out to touch Ronan’s arm very, very lightly. 

 

“Ants in your pants, Parrish?” Ronan mumbled. 

 

Adam jolted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected Ronan to be awake, or to speak maybe, but kept his hand where it was, and his tone low and even. 

 

“They’re your pants, so any ants in them are your fault,” he replied. 

 

Ronan cracked his eyes open, sought out Adam’s gaze through the gloom. A crack of moonlight sliced down the bed, and the very edge of it was illuminating the whites of one of Adam’s eyes, making him look ethereal and strange in the dim light and background of blankets. 

 

“Can’t sleep?” Ronan asked, an attempt to curb down his desire to reach out and touch the moon in Adam’s eye. 

 

“I’m too hot,” Adam replied, the words somehow sounding blocky and rehearsed. 

 

“Take your jumper off,” Ronan replied, his own words coming out just as stiffly. 

 

The jumper was taken off, tossed down near the foot of the mattresses. When Adam lay back down, he lay down closer to Ronan, and he could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

 

“God,” Ronan said, “you are hot.” 

 

Adam looked at him quickly, then away just as quickly. 

 

“I said I was.” 

 

Perhaps it was the moon so close, or the dark of the room, or the familiar comforting sound of Gansey’s snoring, but Ronan felt lucky tonight. 

 

“I’m cold,” he said.

 

Chainsaw chuckled in her sleep. They ignored her. 

 

“I could grab the jumper back for you,” Adam said, but he was already shuffling closer until his shoulder was pressing up against Ronan’s. 

 

“Too much effort,” Ronan replied, shifting further onto his side so he could face Adam better. 

 

He ought to have had Chainsaw on his other side. 

 

“Is she cold too?” Adam asked in a whisper, his right hand coming to rest on Chainsaw’s belly, “Or is it just you?” 

 

“Just me,” Ronan replied, because he felt like there  _ was _ a right answer to this question but he didn’t know what it was. 

 

Adam pressed closer. Ronan must have got his answer right, because Adam’s hand slipped off of Chainsaw and onto Ronan’s hip, his fingers curving around his back, spreading warmth through his skin. 

 

“Adam,” Ronan said. 

 

Adam was still leaning in, moving carefully around Chainsaw, his arm light over her but firm on Ronan. He ducked his head in over her head, pressed his forehead against Ronan’s chin. 

 

“Adam,” Ronan said. 

 

“You need to sleep,” Adam murmured, “to dream a cure for Chainsaw. If I were her, I’d be missing my wings.” 

 

This was very true. 

 

He untangled his arm from the top sheet, then reached out over Chainsaw to brush his fingers first against Adam’s chest, and then to rest lightly on his side, fingers pressing in between his arm and his ribs. 

 

“Warm enough?” Adam asked. 

 

“Not yet,” Ronan said. 

 

“Sleep,” Adam said, “I’ll keep you warm.” 

 

-

 

Ronan woke a few times more that night; when Adam got up again a couple of hours later on doll duty, when Chainsaw created the foulest smelling shit that was probably vindictive and possibly she shouldn’t have been allowed that much pizza, and when he woke frozen and clutching something small and smooth in his hand. 

 

“Hey,” Adam breathed, when Ronan’s body unlocked itself from its dream paralysis, “what did you bring out?” 

 

Ronan wasn’t entirely sure himself, the object had been quite ephemeral in his dream, his mind wasn’t sure what it needed it to be, so the object wasn’t sure either. 

 

He held his hand up, fingers cupping the marble in his palm, and Adam reach out to brush his fingers against the warm glass, and also a lot against Ronan’s knuckles. 

 

“What does it do?” Adam asked. 

 

“It looks like a choking hazard,” Ronan mumbled back, closing his fist, and then opening it again with the marble pinched between finger and thumb, “but I think it’s a raven lure.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Ronan shook his head, amused with himself, “she likes shiny things. This marble is shiny. I think she’s meant to eat it and it’ll turn her back?” 

 

“Ah,” Adam said, “choking hazard.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ronan sighed, “I don’t know if I can actually let her eat it with any good conscience. She’s in a baby body, what if she baby chokes?” 

 

“She snarfed down almost an entire pizza, Lynch,” Adam pointed out. 

 

His hand was back at Ronan’s, his thumb pressing against the marble, his fingers curving around Ronan’s palm. 

 

“Pizza isn’t round and hard and perfect for getting caught in tiny tubes,” Ronan pointed out. “Having said that, it worked fine in my dream, so…” 

 

“So,” Adam said, “let’s try it. When the sun is more up though, I don’t want to deal with a choking  bird baby while it’s still dark out.” 

 

“Dumbass,” Ronan snorted, “I don’t want there to be a choking bird baby at all.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam said. 

 

His fingers were still curved around Ronan’s hand. Ronan felt that if he pointed this out, then maybe Adam would take his hand away, so, he didn’t point it out, he just dropped their hands together back onto the space between them, readjusted Chainsaw against his chest, and closed his eyes. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

In Ronan’s defense, it had been very funny taking Chainsaw to class yesterday - partially because he was  _ good _ with her and the rest of the class (maybe minus Adam and Gansey a little) were terrible with their dolls, and partially because he knew it drove Gansey spare. 

 

Also. 

 

Perhaps to add to his defense? The way he could see his own fear at fucking this up in Adam’s eyes. 

 

“Did you show Gansey the marble?” Adam asked the next morning from behind the shower curtain. 

 

Ronan was making coffee and rocking Chainsaw on his shoulder while Adam showered, and he checked to make sure the bathroom door was still shut before answering. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Oh,” Adam said, pulled the curtain back enough that he could peer out at Ronan. “Why?” 

 

“Because then he’d insist on  _ fixing _ her before school and I wouldn’t get to drive him nuts by taking her to school again.” 

 

“You do thrive off being an asshole,” Adam said, which really meant that he understood what Ronan was worried about. “We can’t wait too long though. What if she forgets how to fly?” 

 

“I’ve not forgotten how to punch,” Ronan replied, “and I haven’t punched anything for the same length as time as she hasn’t flown.” 

 

“Ok,” Adam said. His head was back behind the curtain, but Ronan could all but hear him rolling his eyes. “Because that makes sense.” 

 

Gansey knocked on the door and opened it before anyone could answer. 

 

“Hey,” he said, his glasses perched unruly in his hair, the doll in his arm, “you’re not bringing Chainsaw to school again are you?” 

 

Ronan grinned, “Why?” He said, “You don’t want me to?” 

 

“I think you’re pushing your luck way too far,” Gansey replied archly, “anyway. Weren’t you going to dream a cure?” 

 

“I was,” Ronan replied, poured himself a coffee, “I’m bringing her to class.” 

 

He left the room, leaving Adam leaning out of the shower to pour himself a coffee as well, and Gansey groaning. 

 

-

 

“Mr Lynch,” the teacher said, maybe fourteen minutes into fun doll class. 

 

Ronan was quite busy drawing a troop of dicks playing various instruments in his doll diary and ignored this. 

 

“Mr Lynch,” the teacher said again, possibly from right over Ronan. 

 

Ronan drew the tromboner because obviously he had to have a tromboner. 

 

“Ronan,” Declan snapped from the doorway. 

 

Now Ronan looked up, because Declan had much more scope to fuck up Ronan’s life than any random teacher. 

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan said. 

 

Adam, up until this point, had been napping under the guise of feeding the doll, but now he lifted his head off of Ronan’s shoulder and elbowed him in the side. 

 

“I need to talk to you,” Declan said loudly to be heard over the dolls, “now. Outside.  _ Now _ .” 

 

“Hey,” Ronan mumbled to Adam, “wanna swap dolls while I talk to Declan?” 

 

“I have a feeling he’d notice us switching,” Adam replied sleepily, “anyway. You chose to bring her here, you get to live with the consequences.” 

 

“Prick,” Ronan replied, nudged Adam’s head off of his shoulder again and stood up, holding Chainsaw close to his chest in her sling. “I’m fucking coming!” He added loudly to Declan who looked like he was about to come into the room and drag him out by the ear. 

 

-

 

“You gonna say anything?” Ronan asked after Declan had lead him out of the room, then down the hall, then down another hall, and then into an office. 

 

Declan locked the door behind them. 

 

“Is this the part where you shoot me?” Ronan asked, dropping himself down into a chair and propping his boots up on the desk. Chainsaw squeaked a little. He was pretty sure this was Mr Rogers office. 

 

“Ronan,” Declan said stiffly, “I can’t believe I have to fucking ask this, but, is that a fucking real baby?” 

 

“Huh,” Ronan said, looking down at Chainsaw and jiggling her gently, “I mean. Technically, no?” 

 

“Explain.” 

 

“Ok,” Ronan said, “you know my raven? Chainsaw?” 

 

Declan grunted, then stomped around the desk to stand ominously over Ronan. Living out his power fantasies. 

 

“You dreamed this baby?” He snapped, then before Ronan could answer, “Fuck, Ronan. Matthew wasn’t enough? And what the  _ hell _ do you mean technically? Matthew’s not technically human, or, technically a teenager. He’s a human teenager. That’s a baby. I thought you of all people would understand that a dream perso-” 

 

“Fucking hell,” Ronan interrupted loudly, swinging his legs off of the desk and standing up. “Of course I know that, you absolute taint. And that’s not what I meant.” 

 

Declan looked like he was either going to throw Ronan or himself out of the fucking window. Ronan conceded. 

 

“Look,” he said roughly, scooping Chainsaw very gently out of the sling and handing her over the desk to Declan. “It’s Chainsaw.” 

 

“The… fuck?” Declan mumbled, taking Chainsaw automatically and holding her under her arms like a particularly chubby and grumpy cat. “...How?” 

 

“Fucking either hold her properly or give her back,” Ronan snapped, holding his arms back out for Chainsaw. 

 

Declan glared at him, and then pulled Chainsaw in to tuck up in his arms. Apparently weakness to babies and cute animals was not something you grew out of.

 

-

 

“Declan didn’t kill you, then?” Gansey asked as they met at the classroom door at the end of class. “That took a long time.” 

 

“Oh,” Ronan said, “nah, I was just taking Chainsaw on a walk for the last half hour.” 

 

“I knew you’d get bored of being in class,” Adam said, following Gansey out of the classroom, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and tapping Gansey’s arm to be handed the doll. “What happened, then?” 

 

“He’s obviously not pleased,” Ronan snorted, elbowing Gansey and falling into step in between him and Adam. “But not as displeased as he would have been if she was like, a real real baby.” 

 

“About that,” Gansey said, “when are we turning her back into a bird?” 

 

“Uh,” Ronan glanced at Adam who was already looking at him. It was difficult to get an answer in just a moment of a hallway glance, but. “Tonight.” 

 

“Tonight?” Gansey repeated, “You’ve dreamed a cure?” 

 

“Uh-huh,” Ronan said, “I’m like… 89% sure it’ll work.” 

 

“89?” Adam asked, “That’s not super sure.” 

 

“Good percentage, though, still.” Gansey added. 

 

“Maybe tonight, then,” Ronan mumbled, “if I feel more sure about it.” 

 

“Ok,” Gansey said. “You coming to this class too?” 

 

They were already at the door of their next class. However, this wasn’t a fun class full of stupid demon dolls in which he could sit next to a napping Adam. So. 

 

“No,” he snorted, “I’m heading home. Just stopped by the class to let you know.” 

 

“How thoughtful,” Adam drawled. 

 

“Parenthood knocked some sensibilities into me, it turns out,” Ronan replied with a grin. 

 

“Lynch,” Gansey said, “as pleased as I am that you’re being so thoughtful for us, but how about being thoughtful for your own future by coming to class with us?” 

 

“Hmm,” Ronan said, shared a hallway glance with Adam again. “Nah. See y’all at home?” 

 

“Not my home,” Adam said. “But yeah.” 

 

“See you,” Gansey sighed. 

 

-

  
  


He spent the majority of the day fucking about with Chainsaw, seeing what she did and didn’t want to eat , and trying to persuade her to say ‘Kerah’. No Kerah was said, but a truly unsettling amount of growling. 

 

While she lay on her back gnawing at one of Gansey’s slippers, he sat beside her to make sure she didn’t choke on the pom-poms, and rolled the marble between his fingers, trying to get a better sense of  _ sureness _ from it. It looked so average, so normal. Just a cats-eyes marble with a black inner that matched Chainsaw’s eyes - just a flash of gold somewhere in the centre. It was small enough that if a real baby swallowed it, it would probably just go straight down and be pooped out a while later. Probably. He put it away in the usually unhelpful pocket of his school shirt. 

 

He hadn’t slept very well the previous night -obviously - caught up in Adam  _ holding _ him and in trying to dream, and in not squishing a bird/baby, so when Chainsaw decided it was very much nap time at just past three, he lay down with her on the mattresses and blankets still on the floor, and they both slept. 

 

-

 

When he woke up, it was to the sound of Gansey’s voice a few metres away wearing its ‘talking to Blue’ voice, and to the very obvious lack of Chainsaw in his arms. His eyes snapped open, searching for Adam holding her. 

 

There was no Adam, just Gansey standing by his desk, and Chainsaw pecking at the window fastenings on the other side of the room. 

 

“Fuck,” Ronan rasped, voice shot from sleeping with his mouth open. He slapped at his pocket to find the marble missing, blinked hard at Chainsaw as she fluttered against the glass like a large and very pissed off moth. 

 

Gansey turned around, still speaking to Blue. Chainsaw turned to look at him, then flew over to him, landing with a flourish on his lap. 

 

“Oh,” he said, “you ate it while I slept, huh?” 

 

“You didn’t know?” Gansey asked, apparently done with his phone call. 

 

Ronan shook his head, smoothed Chainsaw’s feathers, and then stood up. “She’s a fucking clever bird,” he muttered, “she must have known it was a cure and took it while I was asleep.” 

 

“Or,” Gansey said, “she just wanted to know if it would taste good, seeing as she’s tried to put basically everything in her mouth.” 

 

“Nah,” Ronan shook his head, unlatched the window, and watched as Chainsaw took off eagerly into the sky. “She knows what she’s doing.” 

 

“But you don’t?” Gansey asked wryly. 

 

He had crossed the room, and was standing behind Ronan, arms crossed, head to one side as if he were watching Chainsaw past Ronan. Ronan didn’t reply, and Gansey continued. 

 

“I saw you two last night,” he said softly, waited a moment to give Ronan a chance to jump in. Ronan didn’t jump in. “Do you know what you’re doing about that?” 

 

“Where is he?” Ronan asked, still staring out the window, the air outside a little chilly on his nap warm skin. “I thought he was coming back here?” 

 

“He did,” Gansey said, “but he saw Chainsaw and I suppose he figured he wasn’t needed here anymore. He took Beatrice back to St Agnes, said he had some homework he needed to finish.” 

 

Ronan turned around now, leaned against the window sill and watched Gansey watch him. 

 

“What did you see last night?” he asked. 

 

Gansey frowned. “The two of you holding hands,” he said, “Why? Was there more? Please tell me that if there  _ was _ more there wasn’t anything I would want to have been in a completely different room for.” 

 

“I can’t tell you that,” Ronan said. 

 

-

 

When he knocked on Adam’s flat door, he was immediately greeted by the familiar sound of Chainsaw rather than Adam, and it took nearly a full minute for Adam himself to open the door. 

 

“What?” he asked, Beatrice held in one arm, a book in the other, Chainsaw perched on his shoulder. 

 

Ronan pushed inside past him, then leaned back to shut the door seeing as Adam’s hands were full and how the hell had he opened it? He walked in, dropped himself down onto Adam’s mattress into the warm spot Adam had obviously just vacated, and leaned against the wall. 

 

“What?” Adam repeated, staying where he was by the door. 

 

Chainsaw hopped off of his shoulder, flew/fell to the floor, and began examining a thread sticking out of Adam’s sock. 

 

“You’re mad at me,” Ronan said, certainly not deaf to how stilted Adam’s tone was. Adam didn’t say anything. “Why?” Ronan pushed. 

 

Adam rolled his eyes, then crossed over to his rickety desk to put his book down, then over to the mattress to press the doll into Ronan’s arms, and lifted his own arms up to stretch them over his head. 

 

When he spoke, it was directed at the wall over Ronan’s head and his voice was oddly small. 

 

“You turned her back without me,” Adam said. 

 

Ronan blinked. 

 

“It went fine, obviously,” he tried, squinting up at Adam, “she’s fine.” 

 

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Adam said to the wall, voice louder but still small. 

 

“What?” Ronan said dumbly, then pointed down at Chainsaw who had followed Adam as he moved around his room. “She’s right there, you didn’t  _ need _ to say goodbye.” 

 

“I did!” Adam insisted, “I did. I wanted to, Lynch. And I thought  _ we _ were going to do it together.” 

 

Ronan maybe possibly understood. He sighed. Shifted the doll in his arms so he could hold her upright and rock her with just the one arm and reached up to catch onto the fabric of Adam’s pants like a clingy toddler (or a bird attempting to climb up). 

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said, “I fell asleep. She ate the marble while I was asleep. I woke up and she was back to normal and you weren’t there.” 

 

Adam didn’t respond. He did look down at Ronan’s hand on his leg though. 

 

“C’mon, Parrish,” Ronan said, “I wouldn’t have done it without you. What if she’d choked? You’re probably the only one who knows mouth to mouth.” 

 

“I don’t know how with a baby,” Adam mumbled. 

 

“She’s still here,” Ronan said, “maybe not the as cute as you thought she was, but she’s still here. Obviously she still likes you. Plus, you still have Beatrice.” 

 

“Lynch,” Adam grunted. 

 

“Am I off the hook?” Ronan asked, tugged at Adam’s pants again, “Or are you still a pissbaby?” 

 

“I’m not mad at you,” Adam said, then gave in to Ronan and sat down on the bed next to him. “But you know that Beatrice isn’t the same.” 

 

“I know,” Ronan said, shuffling over on the mattress to give Adam room beside him. “She’s just a machine. She won’t learn any bad habits from you. Like snoring.” 

 

“Chainsaw got that all from you,” Adam replied archly, then; “You did prove it, you know.”

 

“Prove what?” Ronan asked, pushing his luck by putting his hand on Adam’s thigh. “That I could get away with taking a bird baby to school?” 

 

“That you’re good with babies,” Adam said, not knocking Ronan’s hand off of his thigh, “that you’re a natural, or whatever. I mean. You were so -” 

 

“So what?” Ronan asked, when Adam didn’t continue. “What was I, Parrish?” 

 

“You were more open,” Adam said firmly. “Easier to touch.” 

 

Ronan snorted, Adam snorted as well, then covered Ronan’s hand on his thigh with his own hand. 

 

“Is that why you did, then?” Ronan asked stiffly, “Is this all it’s going to be?” 

 

Adam’s fingers squeezed around Ronan’s, and he shook his head. “I said easier, not easy. That’s not  _ why, _ Ronan.” 

 

“So,” Ronan said, very aware that this conversation was exactly why he had come to St Agnes today, “why did you?” 

 

“Do you even need to hear it?” Adam said, “Don’t you know?” 

 

“Pretend I’m an idiot,” Ronan suggested, “and tell me anyway.” 

 

“That won’t be hard,” Adam jibed, then squeezed Ronan’s hand again. “I knew you liked me,” he said, which wasn’t what Ronan had asked for or wanted to hear. “But I had thought it was in a theoretical way. Like. Watching fish in an aquarium. Not going fishing.” 

 

“The fuck?” Ronan said, “What sort of metaphor is this? What shit do they teach you in your scholarship English classes, man? You’re a fish, now?” 

 

“Shut it,” Adam said, “I just meant. You want a lot of things. But you don’t do half of them because you’re… clever. Sure, you might  _ want _ to dream up a car that goes faster than light and then race in it, but you won’t because most of you does actually want to live. You might like drinking, but you don’t as much because you know it worries Gansey, hurts you, and makes me uncomfortable -” 

 

This was a lot like being skinned alive and Ronan was not exactly into it. He grunted to show his displeasure, but Adam didn’t let up. 

 

“You might like me,” Adam continued, “but I thought you - I thought maybe you wouldn’t follow up on it because you knew something better would come along, or - or -” 

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ronan groaned, had enough of being essayed at. “There’s no fucking but. I like you. I want you. I’m clever enough to know that you’re the fucking best thing I could ever get, so, just.  _ Now _ will you tell me that you fucking like me?” 

 

“God,” Adam snorted, “Ok. Impatient. I like you. I wasn’t expecting you to be so much more open about what you wanted this week. It took me by surprise. I still want it, though.” 

 

“Weirdo,” Ronan offered. 

 

“Shit head,” Adam responded.

 

-

 

The dolls were only a week long project, which was good because Ronan was very bored of being cock-blocked by a hunk of plastic, and good because it gave everyone’s ears a break, and good because Gansey could stop teasing Ronan by telling him that Adam was technically ‘his baby daddy’. 

 

“What do you guys think?” Gansey asked, once he and Adam had returned from school and Adam had obliged Ronan by sitting almost more on him than the couch. “You guys wanna do that?” 

 

“Do what?” Ronan asked, very busy with undoing Adam’s school tie. 

 

“Well,” Gansey said, “this whole project was about learning to care for a baby, and now we’ve had Beatrice, and Chainsaw so you guys have like double the lesson learned.” 

 

“What?” Ronan repeated, getting the knot loose and pausing with his fingers against Adam’s pulse because that was a lot more fun than listening to Gansey currently. 

 

“Well obviously,” Gansey said, “do you guys want kids? Down the track, obviously.” 

 

Adam choked on his own spit, Ronan kept his fingers on his pulse just in case it would become necessary. 

 

“Ask us that in a couple of years,” Ronan replied, “if Adam hasn’t dumped me by then.” 

 

“Fuck off,” Adam mumbled, “Ask us that in five years at the very least.” 

 

“No dumping addendum?” Ronan asked, and grinned as Adam turned to roll his eyes directly at him. 

 

“Want me to convince you I have no plans to break up with you? We’re gonna need Gans to leave the room.” 

 

“Hey,” Gansey said. 

 

“Geez Gansey,” Ronan drawled, “you were the one who asked a barely week old couple if we want kids. We’re going to make some now, so please excuse us.” 

 

He stood, dragging Adam to his feet too, and Adam followed after perfectly happily, though he paused in Ronan’s doorway to smooth some ruffled feathers. 

 

“Just light petting,” he said to Gansey, “so you don’t need to worry about ear plugs.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing feel free to come yell at me on my tumblr etoilegarden.tumblr.com


End file.
